Steel, Fire, Honor and Ruin
by Worth a Shot
Summary: Warhammer Fantasy and Mass Effect crossover. Shepard's infamous luck holds and she survives the impossible for a second time. Now on a strange new world, inhabited by even stranger beings, she fights to survive and find a way back home. Be sure to read the author's note at the end for further information on this story.


Steel, Fire, Honor and Ruin

**Prologue**

_'Fear me mortals, for I am the Anointed, the Favored Son of Chaos, the Scourge of the World. The armies of the gods rally behind me, and it is by will and by my sword that your weakling nations shall fall.'  
>- Archaon, Lord of the End Times, to the beleaguered city of Middenheim<em>

_'I could swear you're trying to tell me something but all I hear is, blah, blah, I'm an enormous tool, blah, blah, blah.'  
>- Maria Shepard,<br>Grand Master of the Demigryph Knights, Battle Wizard of the Empire_

**/ooooooo\**

Middenheim. City of the White Wolf. A great fortress-city built upon a plateau of rock a mile across and five-hundred feet high, with only four highways as a point of entrance, each along colossal viaducts. The northern most city of the Empire, it was designed and constructed by human and dwarf hands as a bastion against the north and the ever present threats lurking in Drak Wald Forest.

According to legend the city was founded by the god Ulric, and to this day it remains the center of his religion in the Old World, despite the rest of the Empire's reverence of the warrior-god Sigmar. The Temple of Ulric is a vast castle which dominates the city but hardly eclipses it. Middenheim is a cosmopolitan place with humans, dwarfs, halflings, and even a few elves making their home within the great city. Despite the limited amount of space, the city's designers were able to use every inch of ground wisely, allowing Middenheim to become one of the most valued city-states of the Empire, second in size and influence only to the Imperial capital of Altdorf. It was an engineering marvel and a sight to behold… but not today.

Today, the city was on fire.

**/ooooooo\**

Maria Shepard reached out an armored gauntlet and grabbed a fistful of earth and grass. It took all her strength just to drag herself another few inches forward. The stabbing pain in her side flared up again, and her crawl stopped with a pained and pitiful sob. With rapid, shallow breaths, she let her body once again go limp against the ground. The beaten and dented suit of gromril plated silver armor she wore, gifted to her by the dwarves, had lost its shine and had become caked in dirt and blood. It was too much to even lift her head, so she let her bruised face lie against the cool compacted grass and mud. Her shoulder length blonde hair, which had worked itself free from the confines of the ponytail, spread out and covered her face. The cut she had received to the side of her head when her helmet had been bashed away was still bleeding, and a trail of blood now worked its way across her cheek where it then dripped down to the ground.

She was exhausted. More exhausted than she had ever been. War on this scale was something she never could have fathomed in her wildest dreams. If she had managed to witness the Reapers invade the galaxy, she figured she would have; but that was another time, a different place. And that war would have been fought very differently.

With a deep breath and tremendous effort, Maria rolled onto her back. Despite the overcast sky, it was fair weather, and she would have liked nothing more than to close her eyes, sleep the day away and allow her cybernetics to do their job and heal her injuries. But this was not to be. The constant roar of battle ensured that.

She was laying in the valley below Middenheim, about a half a click away from the mountain's base. It was a decision to be here earlier in the day that now had Maria surrounded by the hundred thousand strong army of chaos, which was laying siege to the fortress city. Chaos warriors, marauders, orcs, goblins, beastmen, mutants, chaos dwarfs, and actual, living, monstrous daemons continually marched along the highways towards the city. They marched with their siege towers, dozens in number, as their stone throwers and cannons continually bombarded Middenheim. All of them keeping their distance and ignoring the defeated woman stretched across the ground within their ranks.

They ignored her because she was not theirs to kill. This army, the likes of which the Old World had never seen in generations, was made up of forces from each of the four ruinous chaos gods. They had stopped their bickering and infighting and focused all their attention and gifts to one man. Their Everchosen. And it was only due to his strength of body and will, which kept the combined army of chaos together.

Maria's plan was to destabilize the chaos army. Without its general, the combined forces of chaos would dissolve into multiple smaller armies, each with their own commanders. Without the Everchosen to lead them, these commanders would war upon themselves before the army marched another mile. The plan was simple. Kill the Archaon. Its execution… well she was the one bleeding on the ground.

Maria had actually fought him twice before this battle. When the man first gathered his army and began to march south from the chaos wastes of the north and had invaded the Empire, she had just returned from her voyage to the jungle continent of Lustria. Arriving in the capital of Altdorf, Maria had delivered her own grim news before the Emperor Karl Franz, and then listened as he briefed her on the chaos incursion. Now realizing she literally had nowhere else to call home, Maria had called her retinue of knights to action and rode north in haste.

The first engagement was Maria and her Demigryph knights against the Archaon and his deadliest warriors, the Swords of Chaos. The two groups, composed only of the very elite, clashed against one another in a spectacularly bloody fashion. Maria had fought her way to the Archaon and faced him for the first time, and during this encounter managed to kill his demonic mount, Dorghar. Maria then quickly ordered a retreat before the rest of the chaos army arrived to defend the Archaon. Having stained his honor, and killing a number of his best soldiers, she counted the battle as a victory. But the cost was high. She had lost so many of her own order.

Being forced to flee further south by the unstoppable chaos horde, Maria was able to learn more about the man who was Archaon, and how he lead his army. It was then she was told of how chaos invasions in the past had been beaten back. The horde would have to loss its general. With the Imperial army still mobilizing and unable to stop the carnage being wrought by the Archaon and his followers, Maria made the decision to try and stop the war before more lives were lost.

The second time they met, Maria was alone. She waited for the chaos army's arrival and shouted out her challenge to the Archaon. Face her in singular combat, or forever be labeled as a coward. The Archaon took the challenge and marched out, sword and shield in hand, to meet her in battle. Maria ordered her loyal and powerful friend to attack, and without hesitation the Demigryph charged. It was during this fight, Maria regretfully realized too late, that the Archaon's earlier defeat at her hands was nothing more than a fluke. He had been caught off guard by her biotics, her advanced technology, and her respectable command over the winds of magic. This time the Archaon was prepared, and Maria paid the price. If it had not been for the timely intervention of Balthasar Gelt, the Supreme Patriarch of the Collages of Magic, and his swift Pegasus, the Archaon would have taken her life… just as he had taken the life of her faithful mount.

A deafening screech which could have only come from the deepest part of hell brought Maria's attention back to the battle. She turned her head to the city of Middenheim, it's armies still fighting valiantly on the highways, it's soldiers still manning the cannons and catapults which lined the walls, and she witnessed a tower of blue and purple flame rise up from the center of the nearest viaduct. Soldiers from both sides who were too close to the flames combusted and their screams of terror and pain were silenced as they immediately turned to ash. The tower of colored fire rose hundreds of feet into the air and formed into the shape of a gigantic, four fingered claw. The fingers remained fully outstretched before they closed and formed a fist; a fist which then arced over and came crashing down into the closed city gate, which had stood defiantly against the invaders until now. The fist impacted the gate and surrounding wall with such force that even form this distance Maria felt the ground shake beneath her.

She watched as the entire arm followed through the movement before it dissipated into thin air. What was once a sealed gate, had now been burned away to nothing. A gaping hole now lay in Middenheim's last line of defense, and the chaos horde advanced with renewed zeal.

Maria watched helplessly as the implications of such an event sunk in. The only way the vile sorcerers of the enemy could have conjured up such an attack was if the city's own force of wizards had been overwhelmed and killed. A cold wave of despair washed over her as she realized this meant Balthasar Gelt was most likely dead now as well. Despite the attempt of some of the Empire's most skilled and most devoted, it appeared that Middenheim was doomed to be sacked and burned just like the scores of villages and cities before it.

Maria shut her eyes as a tear ran down her cheek as she wished desperately that she could drown out the noise of war around her. It had now simply become too much to bear. Four years she had been forced to survive on this punishing and unforgiving world. Four years she had fought against the odds and traveled with the hope she would find a way back home.

She had survived the vile machinations of the rat-men known as Skaven. She had killed scores of foul beastmen. She had faced off against and held court with Vampire Lords. She had managed to defend herself against the impossible cruelty of the Dark Elves. She had outwitted Orge mercenaries, she had overthrown Orc and Goblin war bosses, and she had even somehow managed to stand before and kill one of the most powerful servants of the chaos gods, a Daemon Prince.

Maria had made many enemies, but she had also made a few valued friends. The High Elves had given her their everlasting respect. The Dwarfs had proclaimed her as one of their own, in spite of her inability to hold her liquor; and the Empire had given her a military rank of distinction and honor. Her place on this world had been hard fought and it was thanks to the few people she could readily rely, some more so than others, one especially so, that Maria eventually tracked down and confronted those responsible for bringing her here in the first place. For all the good it did her now though…

Even with her eyes closed and the noise around her, she knew when he began to advance toward her spot on the ground. The game was finally over; the battle for Middenheim lost. There was just one last thing to take care of, and his very real and overwhelming aura of malice was unmistakable.

The Archaon was finally ready to kill her…

…and Maria was too overwhelmed to care anymore.

His voice was deep and carried over the roar of battle with ease, even though he still wore his ancient, horned, battle-helm. "Look to the city, _champion_," the last word spoken in a sneering tone. "Another city of the Empire falls to the might of chaos. Further proof of the power they command, and the utter insignificance of the weak-willed Sigmar, who these peasants have declared a god. Even the ancient Cult of Ulric cannot oppose my might. I will be the last of the Everchosen, I will lay waste to all of reality, and no _champion_ of order can stop me."

Still sprawled out on her back before him, all Maria did was turn her head and look at him. He stood only a few paces away, and despite her attempts, looked no worse off from their duel. His coal black armor, adorned with the skulls of his enemies and pelts of his hunts, showed little wear from her attacks. The ancient enchantments and wicked spells had made the armor and its wearer immune to nearly all forms of physical, magical, and apparently biotic attacks.

In defense of the Empire, Emperor Karl Franz had opened the Imperial vaults and gifted Maria one of the most potent magical weapons in the whole of the Old World. A sword, the Runefang of Drakwald, given the name Beast Slayer, was one of the twelve swords forged by the legendary dwarf runesmith Alric the Mad at the creation of the Empire, during the reign of Sigmar. These swords were to be handed over to Sigmar's twelve tribal chieftains as a symbol of their loyalty and devotion to the newly created Empire of Man.

Maria had encountered many enchanted objects during here time here, but all paled in comparison to the sheer power the Runefang radiated. Holding the sword in her hand for the first time raised feelings of honor and victory. It was a weapon made to banish evil back into their dark lairs, a weapon of pure good and order. Maria had wielded the Runefang with great skill. She may have been new to this world of steel, but she was a fast study.

But as powerful as the sword was, the chaos gods had ensured their Everchosen was fully prepared to face such weapons. Maria had struck solid blows against the man many times during their fight. All that showed for her effort were a number of small scratches and one minor dent to his chest plate. When the Archaon had dealt his final, devastating blow, Maria had lost her grip on the sword. It was laying on the ground only a few feet away, but at the moment, it was basically leagues from her grip.

The Archaon advanced closer to Maria until he stood above her. In his left hand he held a golden rectangular shield as tall as himself, and in his right hand he held his own sword. A sword of pure evil, Maria had learned that it was called the Slayer of Kings. First wielded in battle by the second Everchosen of chaos, who had trapped the Greater Daemon, U'zuhl, inside it; the blade was evil, simple as that. It glowed red, like it had just been removed from the forges, and it was wreathed in a living black flame which jut out at anything nearby in hopes of consuming it. The lingering influence of the Greater Daemon still trapped within.

It was the weapon responsible for leaving Maria in the state she was in now. During their duel, the Archaon had beaten her defenses away and stabbed his sword at her gut. Maria had failed to parry the blow and just barely managed to twist her midsection enough to avoid being skewered. The result instead was the sword cleaving through her layers of armor and slicing the side of her ribs. Maria couldn't see the wound, but knew of the sword's gruesome effects. The cut, while less than a half an inch deep, was bleeding freely and the skin had been charred and blackened by the poisonous black flame. Without magical intervention, Maria doubted her cybernetics would be enough to heal it before she succumbed to the wound.

He looked down at her and Maria could swear she heard the malice in his voice fade slightly. "It was pointless to resist against my invasion, Shepard. All of this was destined to happen. I will be victorious. This is inevitable."

As he looked across the battlefield, Maria rolled her eyes. It didn't matter what reality she was in, it seemed long winded speeches made by the forces of evil at their perceived moment of triumph was a mandatory thing.

"I alone know the truth of the universe," the Archaon continued. "Centuries ago I was a humble servant of Sigmar. A warrior-priest devoted to spreading his word and bringing others into his light…."

Maria closed her eyes and wished he would just get it over with.

"…it was there I read from the forbidden texts in the temple. I know how far the taint of chaos has spread across the Old World…"

Once again I repeat myself and proclaim you an enormous tool, Maria thought inwardly.

"…with rage and madness playing equal parts, I burned down the temple and cast aside my mortal name and possessions…"

If my implant wasn't running so hot right now I'd blast you in the balls just to hurry this up.

"…in the chaos wastes of the north I found my calling and devoted myself to the true gods of this world…"

If I had a dreadnought in orbit you wouldn't be so high and mighty. You'd be paste in the mud.

"…after centuries of proving myself the next Everchosen in the eyes of the gods, I rallied my army to head south and began my campaign…"

If those stupid Lizardmen and their damn mage-priests would have just left well enough alone I wouldn't even be here right now to stop you. I shouldn't be here at all.

"…and now that Middenheim has fallen I can complete my unholy mission…"

I wish I had seen home one more time…

"…I will enter the Temple of Ulric, step into the holy fires, and allow its flames to burn away my mortal body and transport my will to the Citadel in the heavens. From this great gateway I will use the power of the gods to usher in a new era of darkness over the world and burn away all the lies of men." Having said what needed to be said; the Archaon looked down at Maria and began to raise his sword above his head, intent on eliminating the last thing on this battlefield that could attempt to delay his destiny.

Maria's whole body tensed when the Archaon finished. For her, time seemed frozen, and the battle around her faded away entirely, until it was just her and the Archaon.

This planet was unlike any she had ever seen or heard of. The people and creatures calling this place home were nothing short of extraordinary. By the end of her first year, Maria had learned that she would have to expect the unexpected, and always remember that nothing was impossible. A hard lesson but when Maria had encountered her first dragon… well, it certainly broadened her perspective.

So after being trapped here for just over four years, with what the Archaon had just said, Maria had to be sure.

The Archaon's sword swept down toward Maria's chest plate. Dwarven gromril was considered to be the strongest metal across the Old World but even it folded like parchment before the sheer power of the Slayer of Kings. The daemon infested sword sliced through the air and encountered no resistance as it slashed deep into the dirt and grass.

But where the sword should have bisected Maria, instead it passed harmlessly through a thick black mist which hung low against the ground.

The Archaon recognized the magic instantly and yanked his sword free from the mud. He looked around to his left and his right and then felt the presence of his opponent behind him. He turned slowly to see Maria, kneeling on the grass, several feet of open ground now separating them. With great effort on her part, her watched as she rose to her feet. One arm wrapped around her midsection while the other – his eyes darted back to where her Runefang should have been laying on the ground. It had been retrieved during her escape and he glared as Maria used it as a support to hold herself upright.

Maria stood before the Archaon while she took several long, deep breaths. The spell she had just employed was one of the first her instructor had taught her, and for good reason. Experience fighting on this world was gained through hard fought victories. Learning when to retreat and live to fight another day and retain this knowledge was preferable to getting yourself eaten by a giant.

Struggling to keep her voice steady she addressed the Everchosen. "This Citadel in the heavens… have you ever seen it? You've spoken about visions you've had concerning the future of this world. Have you ever had a vision of this gateway to usher forth evil?"

The Archaon raised his sword again and brought his shield in front of himself. Maria knew he was preparing for their final clash but he did at least answer her question.

"I have."

Her throat was suddenly very dry and she swallowed before asking, "Was it cylindrical in shape? The main body broken into five long sections, all of them connected by a circle at one end… and a towering spire at the center of this circle?"

She got her answer before the Archaon even replied. His entire stance screamed of suspicion and surprise from her question. Eventually, after too many long and painful seconds, he answered her. And Maria's heart skipped a beat.

"How do you know about the Citadel?" he growled back at her. With Maria's silence as his only reply, the Archaon knew his gods were watching and made the decision to end their duel now. He didn't know how she knew, but she wouldn't spread her knowledge to others.

The Archaon readied his sword and his shield and began to advance toward Maria. Halfway toward his opponent, the Archaon was forced to halt his advance as he quickly raised his shield to avoid one of her strange biotic attacks. The blast of energy impacted against his shield and caused no damage to the Archaon himself. Moving his shield out of his eye line he saw Maria standing tall with her arm holding her Runefang fully outstretched toward him.

He frowned at the action. Continued resistance from her at this time in their duel was pointless, she was practically at deaths door. But he watched as she didn't slump in exhaustion from the attack and instead clutched her sword in both hands and faced him fully. On her lips, a thin smile.

Maria's side was literally killing her, the cut to her head still bleeding and trailing down her hair and neck. Armor dented, bones battered, body bruised, biotic implant running so hot she knew after today it would need replacing. But none of that mattered to her now. She was a soldier of the Systems Alliance. She was a Spectre of the Citadel. She was a Battle Wizard and Grand Master of the Empire.

"Archaon! I listened to your speech, its time you heard mine." Maria stood taller and began to concentrate as she addressed him. "If there is only one thing you need to know about me it's that I am extremely lucky; basically to the point of ridiculousness. Technically I've died twice now, but in a way you could use that to prove my point."

She wasn't one for grandstanding but she needed to by some time as she attempted to gather more biotic and magical power. "My first year on this planet, I had the misfortune of finding myself to close to the Vampire stronghold of Blood Keep. The Blood Knight's Kastellan attacked me and proceeded to beat me just as badly as you have. I woke up inside Blood Keep and was a told I was to be a guest of the order and the newest conquest of the Kastellan's. But as you can see, here I am four years later and not an undead servant of the night. Do you know how I made it out alive?"

"Vampires are an enemy not to be taken lightly." The Archaon took a step towards her. "Are you trying to tell me your escape was simple luck?"

"Charm played a much greater role." Maria smiled as the same black mist she had used to escape now rose out of the ground at her feet in continuous billowing waves. Her body then began to glow as she flared her biotics. "But if you want the truth, it was a fuck ton of determination to just survive and find a way back home. A home I thought I would never get to see again… until you just explained how it's possible."

Maria's black fog had caught the attention of the ranks of goblins and marauders that still surrounded her. A few of the wiser ones scrambled back away from the mist while the slower ones just stared and grumbled about trying to kill her despite the Archaon's presence.

The Archaon himself was unmoved by Maria's display and held his ground as the fog swept around his legs and continued on. He recognized the magic, Phantasmancy, the Lore of Shadows. He scowled at her choice of magical study. A warrior in battle had no use for illusions and trickery, these dishonorable tactics. But, in the right hands, these spells could be just as deadly as a fireball.

His suspicions about Maria's intent were correct, and he quickly strengthened his mental resolve as the black fog sunk into the ground and solidified, covering the small portion of the battlefield in utter blackness.

For a second, each of the soldiers of chaos stood terrified as they all now stood over a pit of eternal darkness. Their terror became their own undoing and their minds fed the illusion and magic. What they _had_ perceived as an unending pit of darkness _became_ an unending pit of darkness, and every soldier, goblin, and marauder, fell into the ground with a bone chilling scream of horror.

Scores of enemy combatants fell into the void surrounding her, but Maria knew the Archaon wasn't going to die that easily. She had secretly hoped, but knew. The Archaon had seen through the trickery and saw the attack for what it was; just smoke and mirrors that couldn't harm him as long as he denied the spell its power.

The Archaon walked across the black void of space with certainty and closed on Maria. But she didn't fall back and attempt to flee like before. Instead she held her ground and faced him with resolve that rivaled his own.

Maria increased the flare of her biotics, "Fighting you hasn't been so much luck as it has been a desperate attempt by me to find purpose on this planet. But now that I know how to get back home, you will never be able to defeat me"

Maria focused her biotics on her sword and the energy slowly traveled over her arms and reached the hilt of the blade. From there it proceeded to rise until the entire Runefang was covered in blue colored waves of energy.

With grim determination she addressed him for the final time. "Four years I've spent wandering this world. Never knowing if the crisis this galaxy faces was ever averted in my absence. But now I have a chance, and I'm going to take it. I don't care if you pull a goddamned dragon out your ass at this point Archaon. I'm saving Middenheim from you and your army, and then… I'm finally going home."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I love Warhammer 40K as much as the next person, but there is something to be said about how epic Warhammer Fantasy battles can be.

There are Dragon Age crossovers and Lord of the Rings crossovers, all of which are utterly amazing, so now we need a Warhammer Fantasy crossover. Because taking someone as badass as Shepard and putting him/her in a world where magic, dragons, and daemons are an everyday occurrence, and those who fight in this world arm themselves with swords and shields, can only make a good story.

So here's my plan of attack.

First off, I'm still writing another mass effect crossover and that takes up a lot of time. It wouldn't be fair to everyone reading that story if I just gave up now and started on a new one. I could attempt to do both, and probably will, but my wing commander/mass effect story will always take priority.

Therefore to all those interested in this new adventure I say this... Updates on this story will be far and few between, almost to the point of me just saying this is a simple one shot meant to spark creative interest in others.

Basically what I'm saying is Warhammer belongs to Games Workshop, Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, and this story I just started can be used by anyone who thinks they can do this adventure justice. Seriously, go nuts and run with this idea, or start your own Warhammer Fantasy crossover.

**Spoilers** ahead for this story idea. So if don't mind knowing a general idea on how it works out then keep reading this. This is just to help others get the creative juice flowing.

This story would begin with Shepard fighting on the Collector base. After taking out the human-reaper and everyone falls to the ground, they proceed to dust themselves off and make a run for it just like in the game. But lets say while running to the Normandy, the Collectors manage to cause Shepard to make a wrong turn and separate from the group and our hero now finds themselves trapped with time running out. With the base about to explode or become irradiated, Shepard makes a heroic last stand and orders the Normandy to leave them behind and warn the galaxy. Fighting alone, time eventually runs out and the collector base explodes, with Shepard still inside.

But Shepard didn't die. Instead our hero is transported through a magical rift and finds themselves in the Warhammer world. How you accomplish this is up to you, my thinking was some minor skirmish was taking place and one of the baddies was trying to summon a daemon of chaos and instead Shepard falls out of the portal. Imagine the look on a Skaven Grey Seer's face when the Great Horned Rat doesn't appear on the battlefield and instead a strangely armored human pops out and proceeds to kill his army with strange powers and weapons. Thus, an adversary for our hero is born as this Skaven spends much of the story now trying to get revenge.

Fast forward and Shepard has spent months, perhaps years, traveling the Old World and making new friends and enemies along the way; all with the eventual goal of finding out how to reverse the spell that brought him/her to this place and return home. You can make this portion of the story last as long as you want, my thinking was this would simply be part one of the story. Part two would be Shepard does make it back to the galaxy he/she left and proceeds to fight the Reapers using any new powers or knowledge she gained on their adventure. Perhaps our hero even learns where this magical planet is in the galaxy and returns with the Normandy.

And thus Warhammer 40K is born. Did I just blow your mind? It was Shepard all along.

Okay, that was cheesy, but the idea of our hero returning for help to fight the Reapers would make sense. After all, what better way to combat the machines then allies that can literally summon fireballs and bolts of magical lightning. Of course if the Orcs ever got off the planet, and the Dark Elves mastered space flight... holy crap, its true! Shepard created the Warhammer 40K universe!


End file.
